It’s September. Fall is around the corner. This excites me. I get to prepare for hibernation.
Here’s my deal:
I met and married my husband by the time I was 21. I had my 2 children back to back within 20 months. I owned my first home at 24 years of age. Imagine what my life was like before I’d even reached 25 years of age. I raised those boys as best as I could, potty-trained them, taught them how to dress and shower themselves by the time they were 3 years old, taught them how not to be pussies, played referee, took them to soccer, taekwondo and back to soccer. My husband, their father, was a Super Paper Chaser and was always on his grind. I took the boys to the barber, inside with me to the public washroom and later stood by the men’s washroom and listened (in fear) to make sure they were safe when they were too old to come with me to the ladies’ room.
I barely sat down for a proper meal
and gained fifty damn pounds from all the improper eating, but always had a hot meal for my children and husband to feast on. I kept clean clothes on their body and a pristine home. I went to work and home and can count on one hand the amount of times I would actually sit down on my living room couch in the evening before a baby would cry out.
I had no social life. My friends were my family and my husband (God bless them). I didn’t get my hair done (I chopped it off after giving birth to make it easier to manage with the babies), never got pedicures, rarely put on makeup and wore flat shoes every day. I was a frump. An unselfish frump.
Fast forward to present year. I’m
divorced single. My eldest is starting high school and my youngest is entering his last year before high school. They are legally allowed to stay home alone. They cook, do laundry, keep their rooms semi-tidy and can take public transportation. They’re also tall enough to kick someone’s ass go to the men’s room alone without my having to listen in by the door to make sure no stranger is molesting them. That was my greatest fear.
Imagine me now. Imagine how easy it is for me to be…..selfish. And yes, I’m selfish. I’ll be the first one to admit it too. So, before anyone complains that I have that its-all-about-me attitude let me apologize in advance:
- I’m sorry if you have to wait an hour for me to get ready for our outing. I love being a woman and putting on makeup and enjoy getting dolled up.
- I’m sorry if I don’t want to go to that club you suggested. I have another club I prefer to go to because I missed out on all the other times you were out partying while I was being unselfish.
- I’m sorry if I just don’t feel like hanging out with you tonight and listening to your money problems. I’ve got 2 beautiful boys I’d rather give my attention to at home
even if they are just playing Madden.
- I’m sorry if I don’t attend your birthday party. Do you know how many birthdays I didn’t celebrate?
- I’m sorry if I don’t go to your BBQ. I just don’t feel like it. And if you don’t understand this, I really don’t care.
- I’m sorry I’m not attending your child’s birthday. A Saturday afternoon filled with screaming children? See, my children no longer scream. I’ve got a dozen books to read. I have some catching up to do considering I spent my 20’s being unselfish.
- I’m sorry if I’m always the one with the ideas, suggestions, places to go. I’m selfish. I want to go where I want to go.
- I’m sorry I take off on weekends and don’t invite you. I like my getaways alone and don’t feel the need to be around people all the time.
- And I’m sorry if I enjoy being by myself. I love me.
Peace and one love always.